January 9th 2011    Tim Candler

    The New Me bounces out of bed in the morning, skips down stairs, pirouettes in the kitchen and exudes what in the old days might have been called "positive vibration."  And which more recently is referred to as "good attitude" because these days we are all in the army, or at least pretend to be.

    The seven degrees on the porch  was the perfect temperature for a "three pairs of socks and Balaclava" experiment.  Later I might even trot round the perimeter carrying a heavy weight so that I might properly understand oneness.

     "There are leaders," as The Artist says, "And there are cheerleaders."  And I think The Artist is correct, the old me was a sort of Alaskan Politician who sees opportunity in cheering on the narrow minds of others.

     It is beautiful out there.  I love the icicles, the drifts of snow, the feel of breath freezing in the nostrils.  Always a delight to find doorways welded closed by glorious cold and Deer sign along the garden fence.  And I am just so excited by the prospect of more snow.

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